The Boy Finally Gets It
by NickyM96
Summary: [Olicity One Shot] It's been a month since the events in Central City and Felicity finally forces Oliver to tell her what's really bothering him. But once the proverbial cat is out of the bag, there's no putting it back. Spoilers for Arrow Episode 4x08.


Title: The Boy Finally Gets It

Author: NickyM96

Summary: It's been a month since the events in Central City and Felicity finally forces Oliver to tell her what's really bothering him. But once the proverbial cat is out of the bag, there's no putting it back.

Spoilers: Arrow 4x08

Disclaimer: Characters not mine. Just borrowing them for a quick minute while they're on hiatus. They will be returned good as new when done.

A/N: Let's face it. We ALL have ideas on how much better the baby reveal could have gone. On a scale of 1 to 10, that reveal as aired was a -27. I'm still picking the scabs off the psychological and emotional scars that episode left on my soul. This story was therapy for me. I needed to get Olicity to their happily ever after. Especially considering what's coming up next.

* * *

"Are you sick? Are you dying?"

Oliver looks up from the pot he was stirring on the stove, puzzled by the random questions suddenly thrown at him. He had felt Felicity staring in mute concentration at him for the past few minutes the way she normally stares at something on her computer that has stumped her. He was just starting to wonder about her uncharacteristic silence.

"Do I look like I'm sick or dying?" he asks jokingly, but quickly changes his tone when she looks sincerely worried. He turns off the burner and goes to sit next to her, cupping her face with his hands. "What's the matter, Baby?"

"Why don't you tell me," she says, a challenging gaze in her eyes. "And don't keep saying it's nothing. Because I know it's something. It's been something since we were in Central City last month."

"Felicity …"

"No, Oliver!" She yells, pushing away from him. She starts pacing around the room, half muttering to herself, half screaming at him. "I'm not accepting that answer anymore. I know you. I know you down to your DNA. I know when you're lying. And I know when something is bothering you. Do you not want to be with me? Is that it? Have you changed your mind about us and don't know how to tell me?"

"Where is this coming from?" His confusion is genuine. "I love you, Felicity. Why would you think I don't want to be with you? You are everything to me."

She just stares at him, biting her lip, trying to hold back the tears threatening to fall.

"I know you love me," she finally says after some time.

He lets out a relieved sigh and leans in to kiss her. But she leans away.

"I know you love me," she repeats, "But you have changed. Ever since Central City, _we_ have changed. This thing between us is different. You don't touch me."

"What? Never, Felicity," Oliver objects. "I touch you all the time."

He reaches out for her hand and brings it up to his lips. He lingers there, just for a second. He inhales the sweet scent on her fingers that is part her scented lotion, part fairly fresh nail polish, and one hundred percent _eau de Felicity_. It's the best smell in the world to him.

"You touch me like this," she says, emphasizing how he's holding on to her. "At times, you cling to me with this nearly unreasonable desperation. But the rest of the time, you seem to carefully and deliberately not touch me. I miss feeling you around me. I miss the scent of you in my space. I miss your warmth and you touching my shoulders or my hair or just dropping a quick kiss on my lips as you pass by."

He looks in her eyes and can feel her pain. He never wanted to hurt her. But he sees now that he is. And it has to stop.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so … sorry."

"Don't be sorry," she pleads with him. "Just be honest. Tell me what is going on with you."

"You're going to hate me." He scrubs his hands through his hair the way he does when he's nervous or worried about something.

"I hate that you've been lying to me," she admits. "But I don't hate you. I can't hate you. But I am extremely pissed off that you've had me so crazy with worry that I was this close to tailing you on your weekly trips to Central City."

"You know about me going to Central City," he winces, closing his eyes. "Of course you'd know. I'm actually surprised you haven't figured it all out. Maybe I was kind of hoping you would figure it out."

"Maybe you should just tell me," she counters.

"Okay." He pulls her into his arms, hoping it isn't for the last time. He can't stop the shudder through his body at the thought of losing her.

"Calm down," she says soothingly when she feels him quaking. "You have me thinking you really are dying."

That brings a quick, surprised chuckle from him, breaking the tension a little.

"Listen to me. There is nothing you can do or tell me that would make me leave you," she swears to him. "I've seen you kill people and that hasn't driven me away. I'm not going anywhere. Even if you tell me you want to leave me, I wouldn't let you. You're stuck with me, Pal."

"I love you," he says quietly. "I don't always show you in the right ways. But I love you with everything that is within me. I've never been able to fully trust anyone. Not even myself. Especially not myself. But I'm giving you everything, right here and now. _Everything_. I will be laid completely bare."

He starts to pace, ending up at the liquor cart and taking out the vodka.

"Lovely. Trying to get me drunk already," she mutters, taking the glass he offers and watching him down his own. "I'm suddenly not sure I want to hear this story. Not if it takes that much vodka for you to get through it."

He lets out a little laugh before refilling his drink.

"Too late." He sits next to her, but almost immediately gets back up, feeling the need to keep moving. "You were right. This started in Central. The _first_ time we were in Central City helping out Barry and his team."

"Last year?" she asks.

He just nods, thinking back to that time. They were tracking a criminal who used boomerangs as his weapon of choice. They ended up rescuing Barry, who had fallen victim to a meta human. Afterwards, they all went for coffee.

"We were leaving the coffee shop," he says, setting the scene for her. "You were getting our coffee to go. And on the way out the door, I ran into a woman I used to know."

"I remember," Felicity says, starting to tremble a little at the mention of the other woman. She has a bad feeling this woman is the root of her trouble with Oliver. She takes a sip of her drink to calm her suddenly jittery nerves.

"Her name is Samantha Clayton. But I didn't even remember that at the time. We didn't know each other very long. We met and soon parted ways about 10 years ago."

Felicity lets out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding.

"Ten years ago? That was before the island," she says with a lot of relief. As far as she's concerned, the old Oliver Queen died on that island. Whatever sins he committed before the island belong to the man he no longer is. She doesn't see a problem. Unless the woman wants something. "So she's an old girlfriend. What does she want from you?"

"Nothing, actually. She probably wishes our paths had never crossed again. If she had her way, I'd stay as far away as possible."

"So you've seen her recently," Felicity figures out. "Is she who you've been running off to see in Central City? What does she ..."

Oliver lifts his hand in a gesture to settle her down. He can tell she's gearing up for a rapid fire session of questions and that her imagination has made her jump to the wrong conclusion.

"It's not like that," he assures her. "But yes, I did run into her again. Last month when we were in Central City. It was right after Barry and I battled Savage in that church, just before you got into town. We were getting coffee."

"And you saw her there again. The girl must _love_ her coffee," Felicity mutters.

"She was there," he nods. "But she wasn't alone. She was with him."

Oliver pulls out his phone and shows her a picture. She looks at the nose. The eyes. The mouth. Especially the mouth. All so familiar. A quick age estimate puts the little boy in the photo about 9 years old. A 9 year old boy with a woman Oliver knew 10 years ago. She doesn't even have to ask who this child is.

"He looks like you," is all she says instead. She hands him the phone then winds up drinking the rest of her vodka in one big gulp. This time she's the one getting up for a refill.

"His name is William," Oliver continues. "He's who I've been going to Central City to see."

"And what about the past 9 years?" she snaps. "You've just been ignoring him his whole life?"

It hurts that she'd think that, but he can hardly blame her. The truth is so incredible that he can hardly believe it himself. Plus, he never used to be what anyone would remotely call 'father material.' Even he can't be sure he would have taken any more part in William's life had he known about the boy. But the fact is, he _didn't_ know about the boy. So he didn't get the chance.

"I had no idea William even existed," he explains. "His mother did tell me she was pregnant 10 years ago. But then she told me she miscarried."

"Why would she say that if it obviously wasn't true?"

His face turns stone cold, while rage burns in his eyes.

"Because my mother paid her two million dollars to say it."

For the first time in a long time, Felicity is stunned speechless. But her brain is running at mach speed. She wants to ask so many questions, but dare not stop Oliver until he finishes telling his whole story. Needless to say, her computer hacking skills are about to be put to work digging into the life of this Samantha Clayton. One of her most important jobs with Team Arrow is finding out all about the enemy. Whether or not Oliver realizes it, this woman is the enemy.

"I tracked Samantha down later that day after we settled into the farm house."

"That was the thing you had to handle. The thing you promised to tell me about later. The thing you then told me didn't matter once we got home."

And that seems to be where her anger starts. Not only his refusal to share his problems with her, but his deception. This is probably the biggest thing he's ever faced, and yet told her it was nothing.

"Felicity, I …"

"Oliver, you lied! You flat out lied to my face! Then you proceeded to continually lie while sneaking off to go be with your … other family!"

"Felicity, it wasn't like that," he tries to explain, suddenly realizing that it might be too late for explanations.

"I thought I was your family," she says, tears now streaming down her face.

"You are my family. Baby, you're my everything."

"Then why didn't you tell me about William?"

"I wanted to! I swear, Felicity, you're the first person I wanted to tell. But I couldn't."

"You mean, you _wouldn't_ ," she corrects him.

"No. I couldn't." He lets out a sigh, sinking onto the couch as if everything in him had drained out. In a way, it had. What he feared seemed about to happen. All he could do now is finish the story and watch her walk out the door. With another defeated sigh, he continues.

"William's mother only allowed me access if I promised not to tell anyone he's my … son. My … son," he repeats, as if trying to get used to saying the words. "I have a son."

The dazed, yet amazed look in his eyes takes the wind out of her sails. He was no more to closer to figuring this thing out than she was. Did he mess up by lying to her? Yes. But perhaps there was more going on with that choice than she realizes. She sits next to him and takes his hand, encouraging him to get the rest of whatever he's feeling out in the open.

"I cried when she told me she lost the baby," he confesses. "I wasn't ready to be a dad. I was terrified when she told me she was pregnant. I had no idea how I was going to explain it to Laurel. But I knew I had lost something when I thought the baby was gone. But he's not gone. he's here. And I just didn't know what else to do."

Felicity sighs. Then shakes her head. And then just pulls him into her arms where he finally breaks down. His tears break her heart. But she's still so very, very mad. He hid so much from her. And as usual when he does things on his own, things turn out much worse than when they start out. She can't believe the lies and sneaking around he did. Did he ever plan on telling her? Did he think he could actually hide a child from her? A child! But most importantly, do any of these questions actually matter? Her mind says yes. That she needs to know. But her heart … it loves Oliver. And it will love his child. And right now, it's telling her to do whatever it takes to make that child a part of their lives.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes after his tearful outburst. "I'm sorry to drag you into this."

"No, Oliver," she says, kissing him gently. "Be sorry you tried to keep me _out_ of it. I told you, we are a team. You keep on forgetting that. You aren't on that island anymore."

He looks up at her, eyes puffy and red, but with a smile that lights up his whole face.

"I'm finally beginning to realize that."

"Good," she smiles before standing up. She grabs his hands and pulls him up with her. "Now come on."

"Where are we going?" he wonders.

"Well, I'm pretty sure your baby mama is violating your rights. She can't keep you and your child apart the way she's done. So first, we need some legal advice. Then, we're going to Central City to take your side family out to dinner."

"Felicity," he gently admonishes, but secretly pleased that her humor seems to have returned. If she's making baby mama jokes, she's probably only still just _mostly_ mad at him.

"Don't worry. I'm getting all the snarky comments out of my system now. I'll be on my best behavior later when meeting your son."

"You really want to meet my son?"

"He's still not getting it," she mutters to herself, shaking her head in disbelief before leveling her gaze on Oliver. "I told you. You're stuck with me. I assume one of these days you'll give me that ring you have "hidden" in that bowl on the table and I'll be his stepmother. He's going to be as much mine as he is yours. _Of course_ I want to meet him."

She takes his hand and drags him towards the door.

"I was so stupid," he finally realizes. This wonderful woman never ceases to amaze. "Wait!"

He pulls her to a stop.

"Just wait right here."

"Oliver," she calls after him as he jogs towards the living room table. She's stopped in her tracks when she sees him digging through the bowl of decorative stones. She almost smiles at his little victorious shout of "yes!" when he apparently finds what he's looking for.

"Felicity," he starts.

"Wait, Oliver," she stops him. "I wasn't hinting at anything earlier when I mentioned becoming William's stepmother."

"What? Oh, I know. But it's past time I do this."

He holds up the ring. Stunning is not the word for it. She feels her eyes start to fill.

"I had a whole speech prepared back in Ivy Town. But since being back in Star City, I realize now that we weren't ready then. Things have gotten so … complicated. And so much has happened that could have torn us apart. That _should have_ torn us apart. But despite it all, we're still together. And now, I have no doubt we always will be. So, Felicity Megan Smoak …"

He takes her hand and kneels before her.

"Will you marry me? Be my forever."

She has to blink to hold back the tears. But one escapes anyway.

"Finally," she smiles. "He gets it. Now give me my ring and kiss me!"

Since he finally _gets it_ , he eagerly follows her orders. Feeling happier than he's ever felt, he vows to remember this moment. This could have been the day his world ended. This could have been the day Felicity walked out of his life. No secret, no shame, no … anything, is worth losing her. As long as he remembers that, they'll be just fine.

The end.


End file.
